


You Take the Skies

by josibi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Kes is a good dad, Poe Needs A Hug, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2019-11-15 11:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18072758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josibi/pseuds/josibi
Summary: After the events of The Last Jedi, Leia sends Poe home to the only person who's ever been able to talk sense into him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone and their grandmother has written their own Post-TLJ fic, but I've finally talked my stubborn ass into sharing mine. It's normal to let things marinate for 14 months, right?

The Millennium Falcon had scarcely left Crait’s atmosphere before the adrenaline fueled hugs and chatter turned to somber murmurs. Leia settled onto the lounge seat, her body buzzing with its own soft complaints. She heard Finn behind her, whispering reassurances to Rose, reminding her of the living, the lost, and those hovering between.

Poe slipped through the small crowd, his spirits still high enough to clasp shoulders and nod encouragingly before he found himself staring at Leia from across the dejarik table. Her elbow was propped on the table, fingertips resting at her temple.

“You first, Dameron,” she said wearily.

Poe stared at her until she gave him a pointed look and nodded toward the people behind him.

“Alright, everybody,” he began. “Look around you. Take in their faces. These are the faces of the Resistance! Every single one of you is a spark.”

His eyes were bright as he continued. “There are other sparks out there. They might not have responded at first, but we’re not going to give up. Listen to General Organa. We have all we need. We’re going to find a new base. We’re going to send out that signal again. And we’re going to hit back harder than we ever have.”

The crowd rustled as Leia left the lounge seat and stood next to Poe.

“First things first,” she began, her voice sounding slightly stronger than before. “We need to find a base. Give us your suggestions.”

“Concordia?” someone started. “The New Mandalorians seem calmer.”

“Concordia won’t work. They’re pacifists. We can’t drag the war over there.”

“Hoth? It’s close to Bespin and I think the General has a contact there.”

“No way, we can’t dig out that old base out from underneath the snow.”

“How about Cardooine? Is that old A-wing facility salvageable?”

“Wait! Wait wait wait!” Poe shouted and threw his hands in the air. “Dantooine. We should go to Dantooine.”

“Dantooine,” Leia repeated as she tapped her chin. “Dantooine would work. There’s a partially finished base there. The Rebellion had to evacuate before construction was finished. The Empire waited for us for a while, but as far as most beings know, there isn’t much of a base at all. It’s enough of a base for us.”

Leia retreated back to the lounge seat. “You heard him, Chewie. Set course for Dantooine.”

 

* * *

 

Most of the crowd dispersed to get a layout of the Falcon. A few of the higher ranking members gathered around Leia. Finn remained by Rose’s side. Poe stood with his fist raised to his mouth, staring at the floor grates with his brow furrowed, as if his all of energy drained down his body and into his boots.

“Poe.” Rey grabbed his sleeve. “Would you like to come with me to the cockpit? We’re in hyperspace, so I suppose there won’t be any actual piloting, but this _is_ the Falcon. The best pilot in the Resistance should at least have the chance to sit in the pilot’s seat.”

Poe snapped up and nodded his sore head with enthusiasm “Are you kidding me? Yes! After you.” He gestured down the corridor. After several turns he found himself staring at the dash he imagined when he scribbled pictures of ship schematics during Galactic History class.

Rey grabbed Chewbacca’s shoulder when they reached the cockpit. “Chewie, go rest.”

He protested, but Rey tightened her grip on his shoulder. “ _Go._ You and I both know that you’re tired beyond belief.”

Poe tried not to wince when Chewbacca’s footsteps echoed painfully.

“There,” Rey said. “Now you sit before you fall down.”

Poe slowly lowered himself into the pilot’s seat, holding his breath against the twinge in his ribs. “That was easier than I thought it would be.”

Rey dropped down beside him. “I think he’d rather be with Leia, to be honest. With Luke gone and Han before him…”

Poe surveyed the controls more closely. “And this is where they started.”

“Something else is starting now. I can feel it.”

“It’s starting thanks to you,” he said seriously. “Thanks for swooping in and doing your thing back there. I’m responsible for the mess you bailed us out of.”

“Surely not all of it. There is always more to the story.”

“I’m sure your story is more interesting,” Poe protested. “You found Luke Skywalker!”

Rey wrinkled her brow. “The past several days are a bit of a blur, to be honest.”

“I’ll give you that one,” Poe huffed. “So you can pilot this thing, huh?”

“I can fly most anything.”

“That makes two of us.” Poe clapped her on the shoulder. “Welcome to the club, Jedi Rey.”

“Just Rey, please,” she laughed. “I still don’t understand how the whole Jedi thing works.”

“General Organa probably knows best at this point.”

The Solos rarely visited Yavin IV when he was young, but when they did, Ben stood at the entry ramp and refused to let him in. Poe always tried to trick Ben into allowing him to dash around him.

One minor scuffle ended with both boys falling off the ramp onto the damp ground. Poe laughed as Ben wailed. Kes knelt beside the boys in concern while Han tossed out a “brush it off, Ben.”

“Poe?”           

“Yeah, Rey?”

At some point she had pulled her legs up on the seat and rested the side of her head on her knees, facing him. Her eyebrows were knit together in concern.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m good.” He cleared his throat. “I’m good. You?”

“I’m tired,” she admitted. “But I couldn’t have done anything else. It was the right thing to do.”

Poe sat up taller and braced his hands on his thighs. _The right thing to do._

Rey lifted her head from her knees and saw that his knuckles were white. She wanted to grab his hand, but she dropped her feet off the seat and stared out the viewport instead. She focused on Poe’s breath over the commotion of the starship.

After a while, he lifted his gaze from his lap. “Hey, where’s the ‘fresher on this thing.”

“What? Oh – take a right. Two doors on your left. Are you _sure_ you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, Rey. Just worry about getting us to Dantooine.”

Rey sighed and pulled her knees back up to her chest as he walked away. 

 

* * *

 

Mercifully, the single occupancy ‘fresher was empty. Force knew he was too dehydrated to use it, but he didn’t know the Falcon well enough to dash into a private corner before he embarrassed himself. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and waited for the burning to subside.

Poe jolted at the sound of banging on the door. The sound was coming too low for it to be anybody but –

“- Hold on, BeeBee-Ate!”

“Hey! I’m out here, too.”

Finn.

Poe walked one step to the sink, running the water briefly to wash his face and run his fingers through his hair. He hoped the water recycler worked on this thing.

He palmed the door open and wiped his hands on this pants before squatting to pat BB-8. He straightened and pulled at the hem of his shirt.

“What’s up, Finn?”

“Poe, people have been looking for you. I told them to give you a minute, but that occupied light stayed on a little too long and Rey told your droid here that you’ve been acting weird.”

Poe gestured at his head. “Headache… blast doors… concussion… you know, losing track of time things. How’s Rose, by the way?”

“Unconscious.”

“Sorry, buddy. We’ll get her more help when we –.”

Finn crossed his arms and angled to face him head on. “Don’t you distract me, Poe. As much as I hate it, I can’t help Rose right now, but I can try to help you.”

Poe smiled half-heartedly. “First Order couldn’t get rid of your maternal side?”

“Oh, come on!”

Finn led Poe to the galley and tossed him a bottle of water and a ration pack. BB-8 kept up a steady line of chatter, Poe answering with variations of “Nice call, pal,” and “Great job, Bee,” and “Missed you, too.”

When he swallowed the last of his ration bar and drained his water bottle, he said, “Buddy, why don’t find somewhere to power down for a while?”

BB-8’s response could only be described as forlorn.

“Hey,” Poe continued. “All good droids need their rest.”

BB-8 turned and Poe watched him roll down the corridor. They heard an echoing _thump_ as he rounded a corner.

Finn followed Poe’s gaze and shook his head. “Now _that_ is weird.”

“Sometimes Bee bangs into things out of protest.”

“Okay, that’s weird, too.” Finn frowned. “But I was talking about you telling Bee to go away.”

Poe waved his water bottle dismissively. “I asked him to power down.”

“You asked him to go away.” Finn snatched the bottle away and placed it on the counter. “Rey’s right. You’re not yourself.”

Poe ran his hands down his face. “I owe you an apology, buddy. I kriffed up. I sent you back to the First Order.”

“Look, Poe. You know I stopped doing things that I don’t want to do. I went because I thought it was the right thing to do.”

Poe leaned his head back and screwed his eyes shut. For several moments, Finn wondered if he’d fallen asleep standing up. Even though he didn’t trust it, the thrum of the Falcon’s hyperdrive was downright soothing in comparison to the hell they’d survived.

“Damn it. Damn it, Finn!” Poe pounded his fists on the bulkhead behind him.

Finn startled and smacked his knee on a drawer. “What did I do?” he hissed.

Poe closed the distance between them until they were nearly nose-to-nose. His chest heaved, but he brought his voice down to a whisper. “What is the right thing to do? Really, what is it? How can I make those calls?”

“Dameron!”

Both men startled and turned toward the shout. “General Organa.”

Her bold voice belied her casual appearance. Of course she was the only one onboard with a change of clothing. They must have sat untouched for years. 

“I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we’ve had enough of your outbursts. Sleep, already. I don’t give two bantha ticks if you need to find a sedative in the medkit. I need you quiet and I need you ready to speak to me with a clear head.”

“Yes, General.”

Poe turned back toward Finn, who watched over his over his friend’s shoulder and nodded when Leia disappeared around the corner.

“I get it. It’s not easy to know.” Finn said before Poe had a chance to speak. His mind wandered back to his first encounter with Rose.  “You want me to grab a sedative?”

Poe shook his head, suddenly looking very tired. “Don’t think I’ll need one.”

 

* * *

 

Poe entered the captain’s quarters and the door sealed shut behind him. It was quieter and warmer than he expected. He took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the lighting before he noticed that the Leia was gesturing for him to sit on the edge of the bunk with her.

“General?”

“Sit _down_ , Poe. And if I wanted you to call me general, I wouldn’t have brought you in here and I certainly wouldn’t ask you to sit on my bed.”

Poe sat down gingerly, trying not to jostle the mattress in fear of disturbing Leia’s injuries, although he was quickly becoming more aware of his own.                             

“I heard you tell Finn that you ‘kriffed up.’”

“Leia, I –.”

“Don’t apologize for your language,” she waved him off. “I agree with your assessment of your actions.”

Leia shifted slightly and continued. “I need you to remember that victories and defeats do not lie on your shoulders alone. War is not about you.”

“We had this conversation after L'ulo’s funeral.”

“We did. I’m not grounding you this time. I’m placing you on leave. One standard week. Two if you need more time with your father.”

“Wait?” Poe sat up straighter. “My father?”

“We’re stopping on Yavin IV to replenish supplies.”

“Leia, please – look – I can’t – you need –.”          

“Don’t argue, Dameron. We mapped out supply stops. People have volunteered to stay on those planets to recruit sympathizers. Only you and I will know that you’re on leave. To everyone else, you’re spreading the sparks to spread the flame.”

Poe stared at the space between his boots. “Spread the sparks and spread the flame.”

Leia tilted her head in an attempt to meet his eyes. “You’ve lost your confidence. I can’t have my leaders lose their confidence. Take this ‘recruitment mission’ to get your head on straight. Chin up. Stand up.”

The mattress creaked when they pushed off. Leia opened her arms.

“And come here.”

Poe froze.

“I said come here,” she beckoned, the creases softening around her eyes.

Poe allowed Leia to wrap her arms around him, but he didn’t sink into the embrace until he felt her hands warm on his back.


	2. Chapter 2

Kes scrolled through his datapad with one hand and held a cup of caf in the other. He had already opened the windows and doors to allow the first morning light to pour in and the breeze sweep around the house. His empty breakfast plate was sticky with cane syrup.

“Dad?”

Kes shot to his feet, dropping his datapad on the table and spilling caf down his tan shirt. He crossed the room and threw his arms around his son, who returned the embrace with similar ferocity, both holding their breath from shock or the perhaps their sudden inability to move their own diaphragms.

“Don’t tell me that you crash landed on Jakku again, mijo.”

“No crash landing this time, Dad.”

“Then I’m going to guess that you’re grounded.” Kes loosened his grip and stepped back when the breeze shifted and introduced him to the intensity of his son’s sweat.

Poe cocked his head from side to side and pulled at the caf-soaked section of this shirt. “Not… technically.”

“How long are you _not technically grounded_?”

"A standard week. I think.”

“One question.” Kes swallowed the hope out of his voice. “Are you going to stay here?”

Poe’s face broke into a wide grin. “C’mon, Dad. Where else would I go?”

Kes matched his smile and clapped him on the shoulder with a farm-callused hand. “Breakfast is cold, but the caf is hot.”

 

* * *

 

Kes started the auto-harvesters down the ripe rows of koyo melons and checked the greenhouses protecting his new addition to the ranch – Ebla grain. The koyo melons were tough enough to withstand the downpours of the jungle moon, but the grain was fragile and new.

He worked without noticing the smell of the damp earth or the calls of the whisperbirds. He’d left Poe alone, feeling slightly guilty for heading into the groves so soon, but it was Poe’s home, too. He didn’t owe him any explanation for being here.

He saw storm clouds gathering at the horizon and began to trudge back to the house.

* * *

Poe absentmindedly fiddled with the models that sat on top of the dresser in his childhood room. The dresser sat in front of a large window, where he watched the afternoon light dissipate into mist, until he startled at the sound of sheets being stripped off his bed.

“Dad, you don’t have to do that,” Poe said while rolling a small X-wing figurine between his palms.

“I want to.” Kes looked over his shoulder while he shook out a clean sheet. “How’s Black One? Are you and Beebee-Ate keeping her up?”

Poe set the X-wing figurine down on his dresser with a _click_. “I lost her in a hanger blast.”

“That hurts.” Kes shook his head. “Was Bee was with her?”

“Bee’s fine. He’s on his way to Dantooine on the Millennium Falcon. I figured he can help fix up whatever fighters are left there.”

“The piece-of-junk Millennium Falcon still flies?”

“Well enough to transport the rest of Resistance.”

“The rest? I don’t remember the Falcon holding that –.”

“Do we have to do this right now?”

Kes’ stomach clenched at the strain in Poe’s voice. “Of course not,” he said while tucking in the final corner. “Come on.”

He grabbed Poe’s elbow and steered him into the the living room. He stopped in front of the gray couch. “Relax.”

“Yeah, relaxing’s not really my thing.”

Kes gently pushed him until his shins touched the cushions. “Try.”

He busied himself with making tea in the kitchen, keeping Poe in his line of sight. He expected a bouncing knee, fidgeting hands, or an outright refusal to sit down, but instead he watched him adjust into a strangely intense slouch.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you,” Kes said as he returned with the tea. “You’ve only been home a few hours.”

“You’re fine, Dad. I’m just a little keyed up.”

Kes shoved a flight suit orange mug into his hands. “This will help.”

“Thanks.” Poe took a tentative sip. Jeru tea. “I don’t usually get like this.”

“You fight alongside beings from all over the galaxy. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve always been under the impression that you’re one of the humans. Being my son and all."

“You’re not wrong.”

“See? You’re my son. You’re your mother’s son. You’ll get through whatever bantha shit happened out there.”

“I know I will.” Poe nodded, suddenly looking very small, and Kes felt the weight of his young son in his arms after a day of hiking and climbing around the jungle. He felt the dip of his mattress when Poe kept crawling into bed with him after Shara’s death. He remembered waking up to an elbow in his ribs or a small foot in his face.

“How about you lie down for a bit? Bed’s ready.” Kes said gently when Poe’s gaze faltered. “Or you could stretch out here.”

Kes grabbed the blanket that was draped over the back of his chair he’d sunk into and tossed it over to Poe, who dutifully removed his boots and grabbed a throw pillow.

With his son settled, Kes grabbed his datapad and returned to his chair.

“Let me be Dad. I’ll let you be Poe.”

 

* * *

 

When Poe awakened, the rain had stopped, but the house was dark save for the glow reflecting off his father’s face. He tried not to moan when he sat up.   

“How long was I out?”

Kes set his datapad on the side table. “Hours.”

“Did you sit there the whole time?”

“I had some invoices to catch up on. I would have been here anyway.”

Poe shot him a disbelieving look.

“Think what you want.” Kes walked to the kitchen and opened up the conservator. “But help me out with dinner.”

Kes fried meat that Poe assumed he’d hunted himself. He dutifully chopped the vegetables his father set in front of him. It was a familiar pattern from his teenage years - the two of them cooking dinner together at the end of the day. Kes was adamant that no child of his was going to be a worse cook than his wife.

They filled up their plates and sat at the table. Kes at the head, Poe to his right, as unchanged as it could possibly be.

“Can I ask if the rumors are true?”  Kes asked hesitantly as he slid his plate onto the table.

“Sounds like you’ve been hanging around the spaceport.”

“I’m just making sure you’re alright. The word around here is that Ben Solo is Kylo Ren.”

Poe raised his eyebrows and held his fork in the air. “One point for Yavin’s gossip train. That one’s true.”

“I hate to admit that I’m not surprised.” Kes’ face twisted in guilt-filled disgust.

“I’ve seen him without the mask. Can’t say I was impressed.”

“Between you and me, I never approved of the Organa-Solo parenting choices. But what are you going to do? Maybe the kriffed up sithspawn mutation skips a generation.”

“Oh, I’m taking that one back with me.”

“Don’t say it in front of the General.”

Poe raised his hands in mock surrender. “I would never.”

The two continued eating in comfortable silence until Poe took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. He tapped the fingers of his right hand of the table, trying to decide if it was worth risking whatever peace of mind his father clung to when he was around. He knew that every visit, no matter how brief, calmed his father’s fears for a moment.

The moment was nothing more than a flash in a pan.

“Were you ever interrogated during the Rebellion?” Poe blurted, wishing he could swallow the words back down as soon as they left his mouth.

“Who did it? Did Ben do it? Oh, Poe, don’t tell me it was him.”

“He ripped it out of me. He reached in,” Poe mimed explosions by his temples, “and ripped out the location of our base on D’Qar.” 

Kes’ fork clattered onto his plate. He spread his fingers like he didn’t know what to do with his hands, his expression one of open horror. “He reached in. Force interrogation. Torture.”

“I guess you could call it that.”

“I do call it that.” Kes scrubbed his hands over his face. “I… gods, Poe. No, I was never tortured.”

“I wouldn’t exactly classify it as a good time.”

“I imagine not,” Kes said as he pushed away from the table. The cutlery rattled and his chair scraped with such strength that Poe checked for marks on the floor before he quickly followed him over to the sink. He placed his hand on his father’s upper back and felt a slight tremble.

Kes grasped the countertop and bowed his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled deeply through his nose. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be sorry,” Poe said as he looked around for a napkin, towel, anything.

But when Kes cleared his throat and lifted his head, Poe saw that his eyes were dry. “I will never stop being sorry.” 

Kes placed his hands on his hips and walked to a window on the opposite side of the kitchen. “You get in these Force-damned situations and it feels like nothing your mother and I did was enough to keep you safe.”

Poe hesitated before following him. He opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, Kes grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him into an uncomfortably tight embrace.

“I’m not angry with you. I’m angry at every bastard who made this war necessary.”

“I know, Dad.”

“If there was ever a reason for you to be keyed up…” Kes’ arms went limp and he dropped his hands to his sides. “I’m going to turn in for the night, mijo. See you in the morning.”

 

* * *

 

Poe cleared the table slowly, quietly, against his nature. After the last dish was dried and put away, he walked out onto the porch sat down with a sigh. He watched the leaves of the Force sensitive tree rustle in the breeze. He grabbed the ring around his neck and hoped the universe was in favor of keeping his friends safe. He knew his mother would wish the same.

He wondered what dinner would have been like if she was there. He imagined that she would have grabbed his father’s arm. Maybe she would have dug her nails in a bit to get him to stay at the table.

His father was the kindest – and toughest – man he’d ever known. His kindness came with a touch of tenderness that had only grown with age. But tonight he’d spoken with a forcefulness Poe had only heard at his mother’s funeral. He’d watched his father’s voice grow harsher until his friends found an opening to guide him to his seat next to Poe. He’d gathered Poe into his arms and buried his face in his hair. He didn’t lift his head until the Sharing of Memories was over.

A frigid wave of understanding swept across his core at the image of his father standing at his funeral.

Poe pushed himself up and took one more look at the tree. He might as well take advantage of the water shower while he was home. His father insisted that there was no substitute for water when it came to farm dirt.

He went straight for the shower controls and adjusted it to his preference – somewhere between Jakku and Tatooine at high noon. A bar of soap and a small bottle of shampoo sat in an alcove. Poe smiled to himself. His dad kept his hair cropped short, but the lack of shampoo was going to be an issue if he stayed all week. 

Poe pulled his shirt off, but his foot caught on one of his pant legs and he struggled to kick it off into the corner. As he battled with it, he noticed something he’d missed when he walked in: a fresh towel and a clean pair of sleep pants.


	3. Chapter 3

Poe swung his legs over the edge of his bed and felt his feet touch the cool floor. He scanned his childhood room and couldn’t find a chrono, but the shadows on the wall told him enough.

He left the house and walked out to the koyo grove, spotting his dad fiddling with a packing droid at the far end.

“Hey Dad!” he called out while jogging through the grove. 

Panting, he asked, “Why’d you let me sleep so long?”

Kes looked up from his droid. “I’ve been out here for hours. I didn’t know what you were doing.” He stood up and brushed off his knees. “You probably haven’t slept this much since you caught the Balmorra flu.”

“The color of the junk that came out when I sneezed -”

“That was a disgusting two weeks.”

“What about when I accidentally touched that viper wasp nest while we were hiking? I thought I was going to shit my twelve-year-old brains out.”

“Oh hell.” Kes leaned on a packing crate, doubling over in laughter. “You poor kid.”

Poe leaned back on the same crate and pushed his hair away from his face. He took in the broad grove around him, the north and south ends stretching beyond his vision. “Looks like you’re doing well for yourself.”

“I like to think so,” Kes said, grabbing a pocket knife and passing it over to Poe.

Poe took the knife and snatched the closest melon. He sliced into it with precision of a fighter pilot, but his eating was anything but neat.

“Good?”

“Amazing.” Poe ignored the juice dripping down his chin.

Kes elbowed him in his ribs. “That’s nostalgia talking.”

“S’not just that.” Poe flinched at the touch and dropped the rind on the ground, flipped the knife closed, and stuffed it in his own pocket. “You’re great at what you do.”

“So are you.” Kes abandoned the malfunctioning droid and started weaving between the rows. “The best, I’ve heard.”

Poe followed his father through the trees. This time he moved with care, keeping his gaze toward the ground. “Best damn pilot in the Resistance.”

“You’ll be up there in within a week.” Kes reached down and grabbed a canteen hidden behind a tree. “Want some?”

Poe’s took a drink and winced. “I was not expecting caf.”

“That’s a caf one.”

“What do you mean ‘that’s a caf one’?”

“It’s not filled with beer.”

Poe coughed before he could swallow another mouthful.

“Oh Stars, Poe, you should see your face.”

His eyebrows were knit together, lips drawn downward, but there was enough of a sparkle in his eye to express that he was torn between alarm and amusement. “I’m trying to figure out if I need to buy a nanny droid. I don’t want you bumbling out here and cracking your head on a melon.”

“First of all,” Kes held out a finger. “I retired from Rebel service to raise my child without a nanny droid. Second, that child grew into a man with a nanny droid named BeeBee-Ate.”

“Bee does save my ass a lot.”

“Nanny droid.” Kes began walking again, this time toward the untamed jungle at the edge of what was loosely considered his property on Yavin IV. “Although, if you’re worried about me, I would never be opposed to you spending more time here.”

“I know, I know,” Kes continued as he stepped over a fallen log. “You’re a Commander in the middle of all of this. I just want to make sure that you know this is home if you want it to be.”

Poe sucked in a deep breath. The piercing cry of a whisperbird cut through the humidity that hung between them like a thick sheet.

“Captain.” He grabbed the next thick vine and pulled himself up to sit on a tree branch.

“You were demoted?”

“And General Organa slapped me while she did it.” His eyes widened as he watched his father scale up the tree and sit next to him.

“You’re not escaping this one by showing off. I’m not that old.” Kes checked his grip on the branch and bounced to see if it would continue to hold their weight. “The General slapped you, and now you’re a captain?”

Poe scratched the back of his head. “There were some things leading up to it, but yeah. Slapped and demoted.”

“It’s been known to happen.”

Poe raised his eyebrows. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“I heard Leia during the Rebellion. I didn’t always see a lot of her, but the entire base knew when somebody pushed her too far. She’s a brilliant leader. She knows what she’s doing. Even if that means demoting my son.”

“So you’re on her side?”

“There are no sides, Poe. It’s a matter of rank.” Kes stared out into the jungle. “Do you know why I took you hiking and camping so often?”

“Father-son bonding time?”

Kes’ eyes crinkled in a smile while he reached out for a free hanging vine. “That.” He slid silently to the ground. “And to teach you your limits.”

Poe tried to emulate his father’s movements, but he stumbled to his knees when he reached the bottom. “ _Ow_. You kept up your Pathfinder skills.”

“You take the skies. I take the land.” He offered his hand and pulled Poe to his feet. “Let’s hike.”

* * *

 Kes and Poe lounged next to each other on the couch, bare feet resting on the caf table with a mostly-empty bowl of popped maize between them. The _Airtaxi Driver’s_ credits were wrapping up on the entertainment holoprojecter that Kes dusted off for the evening. He switched the device off and brightened the lights by 30%.

Poe squinted his eyes and scooped up a final handful of the popped maize. He attempted to shove the entire portion in his mouth at once, but in his sleepiness, half of it fell onto his chest and lap. “’M goin’ to bed.” He stood and let the popped kernels fall onto the floor.

“You better. Your aim is terrible right now.”

Poe waved behind him and disappeared into his bedroom.

Kes rubbed a hand over his face. He started puttering around the house, sweeping up Poe’s mess, dusting a few things, tossing out a container of spoiled leftovers. In the quiet, he heard his audio only comm chirp from his bedroom. He wasn’t about to rejoin the fight – no – but he did have a comm with encryption in case of emergency.

He walked as quickly and quietly as he could to catch the call, but didn’t answer until he sneaked out on the back porch.

“Dameron here.”

“Kes. It’s Leia,” a familiar voice responded, albeit wearier than he remembered.

“General?”

“Oh, stop that nonsense. I’m over it.”

“That should lessen the sting of Poe’s demotion.”

“He is all but second in command. How much has he told you?”

“Bits and pieces. Slowly.”

He heard Leia sigh on the other end. “Trying to spare you.”

“I suppose he is.”

“That’s our Poe.”

“That’s our Poe. I told him that you know what you’re doing.”

“More doing, less knowing at this point,” she chuckled drily. “I want you to know that I didn’t send him home as punishment. Not entirely. I sent him home because I would have given anything to speak to my father at his age. Do me a favor, Kes, and don’t tell him that we talked. Take care.”

Leia ended the transmission. He walked inside and dropped the comm on the kitchen table, the sound of his own heartbeat pounding through his ears. After several moments, when the pounding subsided, he recognized a faint coughing coming from the hallway. Light streamed from the ‘fresher door.

He found Poe mid-retch, his elbows on the rim of the ‘fresher and his head cradled in his hands. His fatherly instincts kicked in and he quickly busied himself with wetting a washcloth and filling a tumbler with water. He winced when Poe’s body convulsed without bringing anything up.

“Let me know when you think you’re done.”

Panting, Poe wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and hit the flush lever. “I’m done.”

Kes handed over the water and cloth before joining his son of the floor. Poe rinsed out his mouth and wiped his face and hands. Still breathing hard, he leaned his head back on the wall.

“¿Qué necesitas?” Kes asked quietly.

“What do I need? I need back out there. I owe it to my friends. To everyone who _died_.” He wadded up the cloth and threw it across the room. “I need to be helping them rebuild instead of sitting here on the floor with my head in the ‘fresher. But that’s not happening, is it?”

Kes watched the cloth slowly slide down the tiled wall. He allowed silence to drape over the room, knowing that his son would fill the void soon enough.

But Poe didn't speak. His hair fell loosely around his face and he swiped at his eyes before wrapping his arms around his waist.

"You okay?"

"I'm okay."

“Alright,” Kes sighed skeptically as he pushed himself off the floor. “If you need anything, you know where to find it.”

He paused in the doorway when he heard Poe take a double breath. He slowly closed the door behind him and fought the urge to turn around. His son deserved a shred of dignity.

But his instincts gave way once again, and he turned around despite himself, cracking the door just enough to let his voice through.

“Fresh air helps. At least it helps me.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Kes vowed to leave the door closed this time.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Poe rose before his father and dug through his closet to find something lighter than his boots. He tugged on some old running shoes and bounced when he realized they still fit comfortably. His body felt tight and sore and his mind was buried in frustration.

He walked to a trailhead he used to run when he was young and eager to make an impression in the New Republic Naval Academy. He picked up his pace to an easy jog. He dodged through some brambles and clawthorns, but the trail was surprisingly well-groomed. The colony was larger than it was when he left.

Frustration bloomed into anger and he was nearly sprinting by the time he reached a split in the trail. He could either loop back to the original trailhead, or shoot off through a side trail that led to the edge of one of his father’s koyo groves. He chose the side trail. Maybe he’d see the orchids in bloom.

The desire to fight burned in his chest.

The orchids were a blur.

Poe slowed as he reached the edge of the jungle. He rested his hands on his knees and tried to blow his hair out of his eyes. He caught sight of a rough pile of melons and tossed one back and forth between his hands. It was past its prime. He tested another one and his fingers broke through the soft rind. His father was probably going to compost them. 

No big loss.

Poe turned and slung both melons into the jungle. One slammed into the trunk of a tree with a satisfying splat. 

Laughing at the absurdity of it, he grabbed another melon from the pile. With a grunt, he threw this one hard enough to feel its juice splash back on him.

For Cobalt Squadron.

Another melon. Another tree.

For Crimson Squadron.

 Again.

Tallie. Ackbar. Holdo.

Poe continued hurling melons into the jungle until his arms were spent. Surely Leia had already gathered the others and read the names of those lost. He hoped Snap and Jess caught the distress signals and were standing there among the living. They’d left prior to the evacuation of D’Qar.

Poe’s legs were in more control than he was when he reached a small clearing. Greenhouses.

He entered one of them and felt the silky stalks of what he assumed was a grain. His father hadn’t mentioned diversifying the ranch, but he doubted that was at the top of his conversation list right now.

He took his time walking back to the house.

“Dad?” he called from the back door.

He didn’t receive an answer, but he did notice a flimsi next to a bottle of anti-nausea tablets on the kitchen table. His father’s scratchy handwriting said: _Went down to the village. Love, Dad_.

He rapped his sticky knuckles on the table and felt his stomach twist with guilt. _Love, Dad_.

Poe folded the flimsi and walked back to his room. He grabbed the bag he planned to take to Dantooine and pulled out the small pouch where he saved his mother’s wedding ring. He placed his father’s note in the pouch and slid it back into his bag.

“I’m back!” he heard his father call out.

“I’m here!” Poe responded as he followed the sound of the bags his father used for groceries.

“Feeling better?”

“No more puking.”

“No more puking is good. But that’s not what I meant.”

“I’m working through it.” Poe clapped his hands and felt his fingers stick together. “I smashed through a few koyo.”

“If you’re going to work through it with koyo, you might as well help me.” Kes lowered his head and raised his eyebrows in a way that made Poe feel thirteen years old. “In a non-destructive way.”

“Right behind you, Dad.”

“I’ve been neglecting my work because of you, you know that?” Kes said on their way through the orchard.  

Poe stayed a step behind him. “I like to think that I’m worth it.”

“Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

Both men tried to keep the conversation light as they approached a slightly rusted packing droid.

“Over here.” Kes turned right and pointed at a row of crates. “I’m going to work on this droid. In the meantime, you’re going to do its job.” He plucked a slightly under-ripe melon and handed it Poe. “Don’t throw it.”

Poe laughed and gently set the melon in the crate. “I’ll be careful.”

“The famous last words of Poe Dameron.” Kes pulled an ultrasonic descaler from his pocket and squatted by the droid. “Remember the packing pattern and you’ll be fine.”

Kes disassembled the droid panel by panel, descaling and polishing each piece with practiced hands. He removed a rusted bearing and turned it over in his hands. The thing was shot by now. He moved to shift the weight off his sore knee and felt his shirt stuck to his back. The humidity was rough on any equipment left outside.

“Ah, shit,” he muttered under his breath. “Poe, get over here!”

Poe jogged over from a dozen trees away. “Yeah, Dad?”

“It’s – .” Kes’ voice caught in his throat. _He looks so much like Shara._

“Dad?” He reached out a hand and hauled his father to his feet. “You okay?”

 “I need you to go to the garage and look for another like this. Don’t worry if you can’t find one. I’ll start lunch while you look.” He handed the bearing to Poe and drew his gaze to the horizon. “It’s going to rain again, anyway.”'

* * *

 

Poe wasn’t a fan of autopilot, but he had no reason to pay attention to the route his body took to the garage. His fingers automatically entered the key code that his father hadn’t bothered to change since he was a child. He entered the side door and left the bay closed.

The garage smelled the same – metallic, but dry. The garage had better climate control than the house itself.

It was all but a shrine.

Poe smoothed his hand over the exterior of his mother’s A-wing. When he was eleven, he spent several months ordering and mixing paint to find exact matches. He repainted every centimeter of the fighter by hand.

His father found him sniffling on the garage floor when he had less than a square meter to finish. Without saying a word, he pulled Poe up and helped him dip the brush into the pan one last time. With his hand over Poe’s, he guided him through the last strokes.

He wrapped Poe in his arms after they placed the brush down. Poe remembered holding his breath while his father ran his hand over his hair.

“Why aren’t you breathing?” Poe recalled mumbling something into his chest. Kes tilted Poe’s head back to look him in the eye. “You don’t want to cry?” He shook his head. “Would it help if I cried with you?”

Poe remembered laughing, but he knew it wasn’t a joke.

“There you go. Keep breathing.” Poe felt his father’s strong hands rubbing his back.

“It’s mama’s birthday.”

“It is, buddy. She would love this.”


	5. Chapter 5

Poe stripped off his soggy jacket when he walked into the house. “Always great to be home when it rains. Makes me a little nostalgic.”

“I checked the ‘Net and it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop anytime soon.” Kes sat in his chair with hands gripping a large mug of soup. “Perks of living on a jungle moon.”

“Is it going to put a damper on your work?”

“The only thing it’s putting a damper on is the enjoyment I get from forcing you into ranch labor. The droids on the other side of the orchard will keep the work going for us. They’re running fine.”

Poe grabbed the second mug of soup and tore a chunk of bread away from loaf before making his way to the couch. The floor creaked in places he didn’t remember.

“So how long is the rain supposed to last this time?” he asked.

“Days.” Kes stared through the tall windows. “I’m always out there, but this place nearly runs itself now. I’ve taken up some hobbies to fill the gaps.”

“What, like knitting?”

Kes frowned over the top of his mug. 

“It’s a masculine hobby on several systems,” Poe said through a mouthful of bread.

“I’m more concerned about your sanity than my masculinity.”

Poe shrugged. “So what is it?”

“Brewing.”

“What are you brewing?” 

“Ebla beer. Arina’s taken it on herself to safely integrate other plant species to Yavin IV. I asked for Ebla grain, and she delivered.”

“Mom’s botanist friend? Are you two…?”

“No. Never.” There was an edge to his voice. “She was your mother’s friend before she was mine.”

Poe nodded sharply. “Got it.”

“I tried winemaking for a season, but the koyo was too sweet for my taste. I decided to go back to the old Rebellion standard. It reminds me of the joy we all felt after Endor.”

Poe downed the rest of his soup and slammed his mug down. “Sometimes I wonder if the Resistance will ever have our Endor moment.”

“You’re only saying that because you can’t blow anything up right now.”

Poe leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Maybe.”

“Hey, give your dad some credit. People in my unit would pick fights if they went too long without shooting a buckethead or blowing something up.”

“That’s because the SpecForces are unhinged.”

“Says the X-wing pilot,” Kes laughed. “You’ll have your Endor moment.”

Poe huffed a laugh and pinched the last bite of bread between his fingers. He turned it over a few times before placing it next to his mug.

Kes chewed on the inside of his mouth for a moment. Several responses flooded through his mind, but they were either dishonest or otherwise unsatisfactory. He settled on a statement: “You are not okay.”

Poe crossed his arms and pulled them tightly into his chest. “Let me guess, you’re going to say ‘you’re not yourself’ so ‘chin up’ or something.”

“That’s a little presumptuous. I wouldn’t do that to you right now.”

“It’s what I’m used to hearing.”

“From others or yourself?”

Poe groaned and covered his face with his hands. “When did you become a minder?”

“I said I picked up some hobbies.” Kes moved next to Poe and draped his arm around his shoulders. He shifted his gaze to watch the rain run in tiny rivulets down the windows. “Look, you’re used to running from mission to mission, and now you’ve been forced to stop. To think.”

“I don’t like stopping and thinking.”

“I know, mijo. I tried not to think about a lot of things during the Rebellion.”

Poe peered out from behind his fingers. “Did it help?”

“It served its purpose. I can’t say I’ve been in your position.”

“I feel like I’m on timeout.”

“You’re not timeout. You’re on leave, remember?” 

Poe sat up and cracked his neck. “I could have chosen a beachy planet with warm sand and fruity drinks. Blue skies for days.”

“I don’t think you could have.” Kes squeezed Poe against him one more time. “What do you want to do with your afternoon?”

“Something distracting.”

“Do you care if we go back into the rain and mud?”

“Whatever you want, Dad. I’m out of ideas.”

“I’m not. Stay here.”

Poe watched his father retreat down the hallway and into the master bedroom. He heard a few middle-tones followed by doors swinging and something scraping the floor. The commotion continued for several minutes, and he genuinely wondered if he was ransacking his own room.

Instead, his father returned with a backpack, a blaster holstered on each thigh, and another his in hand. He held it out to Poe. “Want to shoot some things?”

“I can’t make you put all of this away for no reason.”

“Good, because I have a little more.”

This time he returned with several magazines and a slugthrower. “Can’t forget this one. It’s a little old-fashioned fun.” He nodded toward the backdoor. “I can grab more from one of the outbuildings. A T-21, DC-17, DT-57…”

“You have an Annihilator?”

“If you want unhinged, I can bring some cluster grenades.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

Kes lowered his brow and held out the slugthrower while Poe choked on the wave of laughter that crawled out of his chest.

“Too much?”

“Perfect. People wouldn’t question my jokes if they met you.”

Kes’ eyes disappeared in his smile. “Never forget that you’re Dameron 2.0. Are you going to take this old thing or not?”

“I’ll take it.”

“Good. Now we’re going to shoot some trees. One of the species Arina transported took to the soil here more quickly than she thought. It spreads fast, but it’s surprisingly vulnerable to blaster fire. Some people act like new recruits without a commanding officer on this moon.”

“People.” Poe drew out of the word. “Right.”

“Just get your jacket back on. If you behave, I’ll let you kick my ass in the flight simulators on the old base.”

* * *

The two men didn’t return until their clothing was so burdened with water that it tugged on their skin.  Poe pushed his hair off his forehead and surveyed the spread before him. The kitchen table was scattered with blasters, brushes, and muddied oil rags, and Poe wanted nothing more than rinse off the mess and find a dry set of clothes. But there he was, bone-soaked, dutifully following his father’s directions to “respect the weapons” and “finish the job.”

Once he’d finished his part, he tapped his fingers on the table and watched his father complete his work. Kes stopped short on the last blaster. He was oblivious of the way Poe jumped when he cleared his throat.

“For the record, it didn’t always work.”

“What didn’t work?”

“Distracting myself from the thoughts. The breaks between the action kicked my ass from time to time. I think it kicks everyone’s ass.” He ran a hand down his face, smearing mud down his left cheek. “I spent a number of months on Arkanis during your first year of life. There was a day when we returned to our ten-person tent with seven people and nobody said a word while we hung up our gear to dry. I tried to find things to do. I took inventory of our materials at least four times. I packed and repacked. I checked everything out. I tugged on one last carabiner to see if it was latched. And I… all I felt was your little hand wrapped around my finger.”

“You’ve never told me this." Poe's voice was brittle.  

“I never felt the need to until now. I was a mess." Kes laughed harshly and shook his head. Heaviness blanketed the room, like someone shook a heavy quilt and draped it over their heads.  "We all were, but I was the new dad who couldn’t choke it back. There was some sort of chain reaction. For years I wished I hadn’t been the one to start it, but now I know that I gave a group of people permission to feel before we had to get up and do it all over again.” Bits of mud and grease pilled between his palms as he rubbed them together. He brushed them off on his pants before he reached across the table and briefly squeezed Poe’s hand. “This is me giving you permission. It if happens, let it happen. I’ll be there if you need me. I’ll back off if you don’t.”

“I appreciate it.” Poe turned his face to the floor, trying to will away the sudden warmth from his eyes. He covered his mouth with his hand and held, and held, and held his breath like a child until it released itself in a shudder.

The immediacy kicked Kes in the gut. He anticipated a response in a day or two, possibly three, possibly never. He calculated his movements to conceal his surprise. If he moved quickly, Poe might think he was running away. If he froze, he might feel pressured to push it into an unreachable space. He counted to three before smoothly pushing himself away from the table. There had to be tissues in the hallway closet.

To his relief, there were, and he plucked a few from the box. He crumpled the soft tissues in his fist and pressed it the wall. He hung his head at the soft sobs from kitchen and steadied himself before he reached back in and grabbed the entire box.

He returned and dropped the tissues on the table next to Poe. He pulled at a loose string on the hem of his shirt.

“¿Me necesitas?” _Do you need me?_

Poe made a broken noise that he took as an affirmative. Kes sat next to him and guided his head to his shoulder.

“No te avergüences,” he murmured. “Las lágrimas lavan el alma.” _Don't be ashamed. Tears wash the soul._

“Pero mi alma está quebrada.” _But my soul is broken._

Kes felt warmth spread through the fabric of his shirt, but tissues be damned, it was already dirty. He drew his son in closer and allowed him to weep.


	6. Chapter 6

Poe stared at the sleeves of the raincoat he’d pilfered from the coat closet. They extended past his fingertips, and he took a moment to roll them up to his wrists before continuing down the violet gravel pathway that wound its way toward the village. The light that filtered through the canopy created intricate patterns at his feet until he reached a familiar clearing. He stepped onto the spongy, patchwork moss and smiled at the sight of the little yellow house with a metal roof. He took a moment to inhale the earthy scent before he heard two squelching footsteps and was nearly knocked off his feet by a woman hiding in a lone feather fern.

“SHORTIE! Nobody told me you were home!”

Poe scrambled to regain his footing and managed to return the hug. “So that’s what you wanna start with, Arina? I walked all the way over here and you’re going straight to the nickname.”

The woman patted his head through the hood. “You never lived up to your promise.”

“It’s a matter of genetics and you know it. Besides, I was twelve when I said I’d be taller than my dad.”

She grabbed his hands and leaned back until they were at arm’s length. Water poured out from his makeshift cuffs. “This is his raincoat. You’re not here under the best circumstances, are you?”

“Not really.”

“Let’s hang out on the deck.”

Poe followed her around the house and onto her wooden deck. Although it was covered by a tin roof, he never did understand why she chose to build much of her dwelling with organic materials on a moon prone to wet weather. Perhaps he did, though, when he saw how gently a deep green vine wrapped itself around the railing. A variety of black, yellow, and pink seedlings sprouted from the small clay pots that lined the deck. She’d installed a swing in the location best suited to viewing the jungle.

“Come here, my third favorite child.” Arina sat on the swing and waved him beside her. “Your dad hasn’t said anything about you being home.”

“I haven’t been home long.”

“Are you talking hours, minutes, or what? He didn’t say anything yesterday. Or the day before that.”

“He leaves the ranch more than once a week?” Poe nestled himself deep into the raincoat.

“Ohhhh. You’re here because you want the scoop on your dad.” Arina tapped her forehead and clucked her tongue. “Full honesty. Go.”

“Has he gone on any off-moon trips lately?”

“Nah, he prefers to stick around here.”

“Does he still hang out with Jamie, Karon, and Lonnie?”

“All the time.”

“Has he dated anybody?”

Arina grimaced. “We’re three questions in and I already regret it.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“He had a girlfriend for a short while. Tara. Pretty little blonde thing. She was a retired, restless Rebellion combat medic with a keen sense of nostalgia. That’s what brought her back here. But, eventually, she decided to scratch that itch by joining the Resistance.”

“How’d he take it?”

“You know him. He saw her off like a gentlemen. He shook her hand and thanked her for her time before she boarded the transport.”

Poe coughed and she smacked him on the back.

“He shook her hand?”

“He doesn’t _do_ mushy, shortie.”

“He’s very mushy. You don’t even know how mushy he is.”

“There are only _rumors_ of _Sergeant Dameron_ being mushy.” Arina dug her heels into the deck to keep the swing moving. “Still, the breakup inspired the biggest party this place had seen in ages. We started a bonfire by his house without telling him. A cheerful little bonfire, you know? The flames weren’t much higher than the roof. He nearly cussed us out when he finally smelled the smoke, but Desnic brought fire extinguishers and sweetcake. Joscam took his coveralls off after a few drinks, Karon broke his arm trying to climb that weird tree, and Jamie cried while she commed half the village for help.”

“I… uh, wow.” Poe blinked and shook his head a few times. “Do I want to know what my dad did?”

“He said he was glad Tara left, because dumbasses like Karon don’t deserve an on-call medic.”

“That’s him.”

“There’s not a damn person worth knowing here who doesn’t love him. You’re a sweetheart for checking up on him.” Arina propped her elbow on the back of the swing and ran her fingertips through his hair. “Is this alright?”

He leaned into the touch. “Feels nice.”

“There’s just something about ancient social rituals. Physical, spiritual, all of it. Your mom asked me to be your godmother – whatever that is – before you were born. I think she read it some novel. We came up with a list of things I was supposed to do for you.” She moved her hand to scratch a different part of Poe’s head. “This is going to sound silly. My great-grandma swore that she slept with a Jedi. We all thought she was a little batty, but your mom believed her. I promised to try to help you if my gut told me your mind was spinning like a hurricane on Squarr. You’ve given me a massive case acid reflux, shortie, and I know head scratches turned her into a noodle.”

“What’s going on over here?” a voice called from a bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, Kes!” Arina stopped scratching Poe’s head and waved until her wrist popped. “What brings you by? You know what, never mind. Get over here. There’s room on the swing.”

There wasn’t much room, but Kes squeezed in and sandwiched Poe between them. “You talk a lot, Arina. Better not have spilled any secrets.”

“I talked myself out of my mother’s womb,” she snorted.

“You talked yourself out of an Imperial work camp.”

“You talked Shara into sleeping with you.”

“Guys, I’m right here.”

“I’m kidding, Poe.” Arina leaned back and winked at Kes. “She dragged _him_ into her cockpit.”

Kes made an obscene gesture behind Poe’s back and mouthed _shut it._

“I need a memory wipe,” Poe mumbled.

“Don’t listen to her, son. She’s insufferable.”

“I am.” Arina returned her fingers to Poe’s hair. “I promised Shara that I’d stick around for both of you, and she liked me just the way I am.”

“I never understood why.”

“Now it’s your turn shut it, Kes. We were having a nice time before you got here.”

“Shut up. Both of you.” Poe closed his eyes and pushed until they were back to a gentle swing. It was difficult, but not impossible, to stay irritated around someone who found how to put him in stand-by.

Arina craned her neck and mouthed back to Kes. _He’s bossy._

_Commander._ He shrugged.

Her eyebrows jumped and she flashed a thumbs up with her free hand. _Nice._

“I know you’re talking behind my back.”

“You’re a little prickly today, Poe.” Arina tapped her fingers on his head. “I like cacti, but they get a little squishy under their spines if they get too much water.”

Poe wiggled out from between them. “I’m gonna go dry my roots out.”

“I have baby rock lizards inside!” she called out over her shoulder. “You can play with them.”

Kes winced he heard the door slam behind Poe, but Arina waved it off. “He didn’t do that. The hinges are messed up.” She relaxed into the space between them. “Now spill it.”

“Leia sent him home.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Kes grunted. “I know.”

“What happened?”

Kes stared at his lap and picked at the dry skin around his thumbnails. He pinched a hangnail and pulled until it snapped off at this first knuckle.

Arina grabbed his wrist, watching a bead of blood fall down the side of this thumb. “Kes, what happened?”

“I don’t know what to do,” he rasped. “My son was tortured and I don’t know what to do.”

“Whoa. Okay. To be fair, that’s far beyond any parent’s paygrade.”

“’ _Rina_.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not any good at this.” She pushed her bangs away from her face. “What’ve you tried?”

“Tea, naps, hiking, holofilms, ranch labor, target practice, personal soul-baring…”

“Tell me the soul-baring parts.”

Kes shot her a withering look. “He casually brought it up his first night home. I don’t think my response helped.” He wiped the blood on his pants. “I don’t want to mess him up more.”

Arina wrapped her long arms around him and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “You’re a great dad. You always have been.”

“Thanks,” he whispered. A small gust caused the rain to pour off the tin roof in a sheet, obscuring the jungle into a wobbling mess of gray and green. He wiggled an arm free and rubbed his wrist under his nose. “Sorry. Itches.”

“S’okay, Kes. There are a lot of seedlings around here.”

“Little excessive,” he sniffed. “What are what are Lita and Stella up to?”

“Oh, well, Lita’s with CorSec. She doesn’t exactly work _for_ CorSec. She got messed up in a few things, but she’s an information broker now, so it all worked out. Stella’s on a sacred journey to Jedha.”

“That’s… nice.”

“I know. Aren’t they great?”

They heard a small crash and cries of _No, no, no, get back here!_ from inside the house.

“I didn’t close the rock lizard cage,” Arina laughed. “It seems like everything comes back to our kids, doesn’t it? They’re out there living their own lives. They’re making their own way in the galaxy. But there’s always the chance that they’ll show up asking for help. Nothing else matters when they do.” She released him from her grip. “I’m having some people over for sabacc. No pressure either way, but I’d like if it you guys stayed.”

“I’ll stay. I think Poe will, but I can’t make any guarantees.”

“Great! Poe’s a terrible liar.” Arina popped up from the swing. “It’s hilarious.”

“Be nice, Arina.”

She flashed a smile and held the door open with a single finger. She crossed the threshold and allowed the door to slam behind her before Kes could follow her. A sing-songy “No guarantees!” floated through the screen.

* * *

 

Five hours later and fifty credits lighter, Kes found himself standing on the fringes of a group of slap-happy villagers. The laughter loosened muscles in a way no massage ever could, and a relaxed smile grew on his face at the sound of his son shooting off a punchline of yet another terrible joke.

“Thanks for asking us to stay,” he said when Arina freed herself from the small crowd.

“I owed you one – maybe five – for listening to Stella after her last spiritual awakening.” She raised a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, but she can be overwhelming.”

“She’s a nice young woman. She just decided to direct her energy toward finding enlightenment instead of growing plants.”

“I spent too many years as a phytobioligical warfare specialist. I have a cosmic need to repair the damage I’ve done to the galaxy.” Arina reached into her pocket and pressed a packet of seeds into his hand. “Here. On me.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but I think I have enough Ebla right now.”

“You’ll need more soon enough.” She nodded toward the group of laughing villagers. “I think you know what to do.”

A full smile broke on his face. “I do now.”


End file.
